About A Soldier
by Kemma Lee
Summary: Death, Jasper will learn, comes in many forms. Hell comes in just one. A series of one-shots offering insight into the look of Major Jasper Whitlock, and his transformation into Jasper Hale. First in a three-part Alice/Jasper series.
1. Death

About A Solider

Part 1/10

_**Death**_

Her childlike innocence is betrayed only by pair of devilish red eyes that peer out from beneath her dark, long lashes. Her hands are cold; he feels them even through the thick sleeve of his uniform. Shapely, pale lips curve upwards in one corner in a mischievous smile as she approaches him.

Like the melody of chimes picked up and carried by a distant wind, her voice echoes in his mind long after she's stopped speaking.

"I truly hope you survive, Jasper," she whispers in his ear. She's standing on her toes, her cold hands on his shoulders, her lips brushing against his skin softly. He thinks he detects the faint smell of ginger spice on her skin.

She stares up at him, her crimson eyes glistening like a wild animal's in the night. "I've got a good feeling about you."

Her face was the last thing he saw before darkness. Her voice and her scent are the last thing he remembers before death.

* * *

The first thing he feels is pain. Not the soreness he experienced during his first few weeks in the military, but a _searing_ pain, as though someone had set flames to his body and he was burning from the inside out. Screams tear through his mind, and he isn't certain if they are coming from him or from others – others experiencing the same physical hell.

Fingers tear at his arms, his face, and he knows they're his own. He thinks that if he tries hard enough, he can tear himself away from the inferno that was overtaking him. It only increases the pain. Blunt fingernails rip through delicate skin, and send trails of blood seeping through his fingers and over the back of his hands.

There are times – very brief amounts of time – when the pain is dulled. Never does it leave him completely, but during these times of half-peace he can listen. The only thing he hears is more of the same; screams, men pleading for their lives. Death.

Often, he opens his eyes and tries to bypass the stinging in them long enough to see where he is, to try and find the answers to two very important questions: where is he, and can he make it out alive?

"Go down fighting," he thinks he heard someone say. He has every intention of doing so.

* * *

His warrior attitude quickly deteriorates.

By the time he sees her face again, he has half a mind to get on his knees and beg for mercy. If his men could see him now… Major Jasper Whitlock, reduced to a shivering empty shell.

"You're coming along quite nicely."

Her voice is distant, as though she's speaking to him from the far end of a tunnel. In a state of panic – or out of need to _feel _something other than pain, he isn't quite sure which – he reaches out to her, grasping the air blindly. He feels her hands close over his, and she pats his palm gently. He opens his mouth to speak, to ask her _why_, but the only sound that he can manage is a single, rasping gasp.

"There, _mi amor_," she says quietly, and he feels something cool brush against his forehead. "You'll be the best, I can feel it. You'll be all I need…"

As quickly as she appeared, she's gone, and this becomes the norm. A minute-long visit with a few reassuring words, a soft touch, and then silence.

He doesn't know how much time passes, how long he lies there weak and dying. He only knows that one day (or is it night?) he wakes and feels nothing.

_So this is death_, he thinks as he lifts his head and stares into the darkness.

Her face appears after a short time, an unnecessary smile plastered across it. It takes him a moment, but shuffling back through to the first time he saw her, he recalls a single word. A name to go with the bringer of his torment.

Maria.


	2. Lessons

About A Solider

Part 2/10

_**Lessons**_

It's been almost a month, and Maria still has not opened the door of the cage. "I don't trust him yet," she says to her two fair-haired companions. "He's different than the others… he'd turn on me just as soon as look at me. He stays right where he is until I say otherwise."

She greets him every three days with a gift. Sometimes they're small, orphan-looking girls and sometimes they were strong soldiers in varying uniforms.

The first time – a terrified young woman in her mid twenties – he refused. Angry, Maria left her in the cell with him, and locked the door. He had learned to tell the time of day by the shadows on the ground and the rotation of the guards. It was nearing seven in the evening.

By the time the guards at the door were switched, an indication that midnight had come, he hadn't even looked at her.

"I dunno who," she spat, "or _what_ you people are, but this has gone far enough!"

As though she were in any position to bark orders.

By three that morning – Maria always went to hunt at this time – he was pacing near the door of the cell. His throat burned, and venom (the only weapon he'd ever need, Maria had explained) was practically seeping out of the corners of his mouth.

"Let me out!" The girl was pleading with noone in particular. She pounded at the iron bars weakly with her fists, always keeping a wary eye on him.

No less than two hours later, she was a babbling mess in the corner of the cell. "Please," she choked out, "you don't want to kill me, I can tell. Just let me go. I won't tell anyone what I saw here."

He saw her mouth moving. He saw tears cascading down her face like waterfalls and he could see her hands trembling. He _heard_ nothing.

By morning, she was dead.

* * *

He tries to keep track of time by scratching notches in one of the iron bars. After seventy-three days, he gives up. The next day, Maria comes to him not with a gift but a set of keys. "It's time you came out of there," she says.

He stands, too quickly, and she backs away from the door.

"You're only still alive because of _me_," she informs him warningly. The tension and anxiety radiating from her is almost enough to knock him to the ground. "You understand? You will not attack."

He has no intentions of attacking anyone, but he nods anyway. "Yes, ma'am."

Maria shows him their base – an old house that once belonged to an aristocrat and his young wife. Jasper doesn't need to guess what happened to them. When the sun is low enough, she tells her comrades that she's unavaliable for the rest of the night.

"I want to show you your new life," she explains as they walk along a dirt path, her arm linked in his. "I'm going to teach you everything."

In the time it takes him to look down at her and open his mouth to ask a question, she's gone and he's left looking at an empty space by his shoulder.

"…Maria?"

He hears her laugh. She's several hundred yards down the path, her hands on her hips, an amused expression on her face. "Come on, then, I'm not waiting all night."

Jasper inspects the distance between them. "How…?"

"Trust yourself."

He still doesn't know what he's supposed to do, other than mentally will himself to her. There's no way he can cover that much distance in –

"See?"

Opening one eye, he looks down. She's linked in his arm again, as though they'd never separated in the first place. He looks over his shoulder, at the place he'd been standing just a fraction of a second before.

"You'll get used to it," she promises as they continue down the path at a pace he's more comfortable with. "One of your greatest weapons is your speed."

"Can I ask where we're going?"

She laughs. It sends a chill through him.

"Hunting, of course. The first thing a newborn learns. I have to admit, you're a little behind the others when it comes to skill honing. I have no doubts you'll catch up in a matter of days, though."

In truth, he's a bit excited about this change. He wasn't going be handfed like a pet anymore, which was something he never liked to begin with.

The town they arrive in is mostly quiet and devoid of people wandering the streets; this is no surprise to Jasper. War keeps people indoors. Maria slows their pace to a leisurely stroll, and in inhales deeply from time to time.

He watches her carefully. She's an attractive young lady, he decides, even if her intentions aren't always as pure as her appearance. She didn't fool him; he'd seen her in action. She was quick, and she was lethal.

"Anyone catch your fancy?"

He blinks. "What?"

"Jasper," she says with a hint of exasperation, "you're going to have to stop that. Blanking out in the middle of whatever it is you're doing. It's not safe."

He feels disappointment from her, and he wants nothing more than to change it to pride and confidence. She pats his arm and points at something to her left discreetly. Two young Union soldiers were watching them – no doubt noting Jasper's decorated Confederacy uniform.

He notices for the first time that he is actually the _only_ soldier representing the southern states in the area. "Maria, I shouldn't be here," he says quickly, quietly.

"Don't be silly," she says dismissively as the two soldiers began to make their way over. Her eyes dart around the area quickly. They're the only four people around.

"What've we got here?"

Maria lifts her chin. "Hello, boys. Can we help you?"

One of the soldiers inspects Jasper momentarily before curling up his lip at them. "You can explain what you're doing 'round here. Especially _him_. We ought to take you in, you know."

"Can't we play nicely?"

"Well," the second soldier said. "_We_ can. He can't."

Maria unhooks her arm from Jasper's. "That's too bad."

It's a matter of seconds before she lunges herself at one of the men, and the other is attempting to run away, stumbling over his own feet. For a moment, Jasper isn't quite certain what he's meant to do.

He looks back at Maria, her tiny frame wrapped around the man, her mouth latched onto his neck. His attempts to fling her off all fail, and they both drop to the ground. He was nothing left but dead weight.

Looking up, Maria points at the fleeing soldier's back, her eyes a startling, furious red. "Don't let him get away," she hisses.

He doesn't when he subconsciously makes the decision to catch the man, or even why. The distance between them is eliminated in mere seconds and, as Jasper's hand closes around the back of the man's neck, he feels a wave of emotions crash over him that he'd never experienced before.

The soldier's fear and terror mix with a new sense of power and dominance and, somewhere between the sound of screams and the feeling of teeth sinking into soft flesh, he realises that _this_ is what Maria wants from him.

She's moulding him into a bloodhound. He's becoming her own personal hunter.


	3. Companion

About A Soldier

Part 3/10

_**Companion**_

He's been with her for almost six months now, and he still doesn't know where her motivation comes from. She's nicer to him now, and treats him like less of a pawn and more as a friend. She's even begun to invite him on her evening walks; a privilege not even Pedro, the closest to her besides Nettie and Lucy, has been graced with.

"Jasper, Maria wants to see you."

Pedro's tone is sharp, quick and there's something in it that puts Jasper on guard. He knows the other vampire isn't happy with him – he came right in and stepped on his toes, and that wasn't nice. He hadn't meant to, though.

"Where is she?"

"Upstairs," Pedro spat. When he walks by, his shoulder comes in hard contact with Jasper's.

Not wanting to upset Maria with a show of violence among the ranks, he decides to let Pedro go with a dark glare before ascending up the stairs and in the direction of Maria's room.

He's never been here before, and when he reaches the half-open door, he isn't quite certain if he should go in. He decides to knock lightly instead. She speaks before his hand touches the door.

"Come in, Jasper."

When he does, he has to blink and let his eyes adjust. The walls are a soft pastel pink, with lavendar floral designs. Colorful paintings hang on the wall, and the bed in the center of the room is covered with a floral blanket, several large pillows, and a variety of dolls.

"I know," Maria says from her seat at an antique-looking vanity set. She's watching his reflection in the mirror. An offwhite satin robe is wrapped around her, and her hair is pulled back in a semi-formal updo. He suspects she, like his younger sister had done so many times before, had been playing dress-up. "It's all very human, _si_?"

He tries not to stare; he knows it's rude, but he can't help himself. It's by far the brightest, happiest room he's seen in a very long time. "Why?"

She smiles lightly at him, and he thinks she looks a little less pale. Even her lips have a bit of color to them. "My weakness, I guess you could say." She turns in the chair, and nods to the dolls on the bed. "I collected them when I was a human child. I never really grew out of it."

"How old _are_ you?" Jasper regretted the question immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound –"

She holds up a hand, and he stops talking. "I was three weeks away from my sixteenth birthday when I was turned. That was three years before I found you."

"Oh."

Maria stands and walks by him to shut the door. Then, she returns to the bed and sits on the edge. "Come," she says patting the space next to her. When he shifts uncomfortably, she quirks an eyebrow at him. "I won't bite."

He obeys, though he feels that if he puts all his weight on the bed it might collapse. "So… you hold onto your human life?"

"I hold on to _parts_ of my human life," she corrects, running her palm over the soft blanket. "I miss sleep. I lay here, even though I lay awake. I close my eyes and I pretend."

Jasper feels a tugging pain in his chest and, though he knows most of the sadness is coming from Maria herself, he suspects some of the pain he feels is sympathy on his part. "What happened to you?"

She's quiet, and he wonders if he should've asked.

"My family was killed," she says finally, "by the humans, I mean. Union soldiers. I don't know, or can't remember, why. My little sister was the last to go. I hid, and a few days later, a vampire found me. I thought perhaps he felt sorry for me, but two months after my transformation, he just left. I think he was bored."

Lowering his eyes to the floor, Jasper frowns. He can't imagine that he would've made it through his first few years as a newborn without Maria. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she says. "This is why I'm forming this army, Jasper. I want revenge, on _everyone_. The humans took my family, the vampires took my land. I want it back."

He doesn't blame her; he would, too. "I hope I can help."

"You've helped in so many ways already; training the newborns, purging those no longer capable of fullfilling their tasks. I've come so far since I found you."

Jasper looks down again, and watches as she places her hand over his. He frowns. "I've still got work to do today…"

"Leave it. There will be just as many newborns tomorrow are there are today, if not more."

A new sensation seeps through him, and he jerks his hand back without warning and stares at her. _That _was one emotion he'd never felt from her before.

She folds her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry. You have a gift I've never gotten used to."

"Tell me about it."

"You can go, Jasper," she says, looking at her feet. "If you want."

Part of him wants to. Part of him wants to stay. He's not sure which one he wants to oblige to. "I just don't know what it is exactly that you want…"

Maria sniffs affectedly, and draws circles on the floor with her toe. "I can talk to you, Jasper. I know everyone thinks I'm just unstoppable, especially Nettie and Lucy. I guess that's true, to an extent. Everyone gets lonely, though, _si_?"

"I apologise if I'm stepping over any boundaries, but…what about Pedro?"

She laughs loudly this time, as though she's truly amused. "Pedro wouldn't know emotion if it jumped up and bit him."

He knows what she means. The man was like a machine.

"…I'll stay, if you want."

Her face seems to light up. "Really?" When he nods, she takes his hand again. "Would you lay here with me tonight?"

There's more hesitation with this, but he nods his head once more. "Okay."

* * *

He stays with her the next night, and the night after, as well. They lie there under blanket in silence, her head on his shoulder and his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Sometimes, she traces the scars from his battles, and sometimes she wraps his hair around her fingers and smiles and says, "_Belleza rubio_."

Jasper doesn't know what it means, but he likes the way it sounds.

He loses track of how many times they do this, but one night it changes. Maria's army almost doubled in number, and she was happy. With Jasper in command, they gained control of over four cities in less than forty-eight hours and when they return to celebrate, she's waiting for them.

"I _knew_ I had a good feeling about you," she said, throwing her arms around his neck.

He lifts her off the ground and spins her once. "Of course you did."

When he sets her down again, she stares up at him. "Losses?"

"Sixteen."

"That's _good_, less than I expected. Oh, Jasper, _thank _you. You don't know what you've done."

He starts to turn, to take one last headcount of his men, but she grasps his face and pulls his head down to hers. He's startled and he doesn't kiss her back, but when she looks at him it's obvious that she doesn't care.

He doesn't have time to object, if he wanted to, before she's dragging him through the house and up the flight of stairs. Other members of the coven scramble to clear their path and, once they're in the upstairs hallway the whispers and chatter die away.

The only sounds left are those of fingers tearing through fabric, and short gasps of breath that aren't needed.


	4. The Past

About A Soldier

Part 4/10

_**The Past**_

He knows he shouldn't be here. The chances of him being caught are very high; the dogs are out of the house tonight. Still, it's been so long since he's seen them…

He's positioned himself near an old oak tree by the house, and from his vantage point he can see through the window in the kitchen. They're all there: his mother, father, little sister and his brother.

The last time he saw them, his brother was but an infant. He's nearing his fourth birthday now. Jasper watches through the window as they all sit for dinner, his father saying grace and his mother constantly repositioning the silverware for the empty placesetting at the table.

"I wish you wouldn't put that out," he hears his father say. "He isn't coming back, darlin', he's _dead_."

"Don't," she replies meekly. "You don't know that, they never found his body."

"The chances of –"

"Let's not do this in front of the children."

Jasper lowers his gaze to the ground. He'd never heard them argue before. As far as he knew, they'd never even been _slightly_ unhappy with each other. Now, though…

His father won't even look at her; his gaze is fixed on his plate. His brother and sister poke their food with their forks and his mother – his dear, sickly looking mother – simply covers her face with her hands.

"Don't _do _that, woman!"

Tighting his grip on one of the branches, Jasper felt a low rumble in his chest. Never has he heard his father speak to his mother that way, and he doesn't like it.

She stands, throwing her napkin on the table. "Fine," she says. "Just because _you_ don't miss him doesn't mean we have to pretend he never existed."

She doesn't give him a chance to reply before she stomps around the table and bursts through the front door of the house. Once outside, she wraps her arms around herself and, (in attempt to keep some of her dignity, Jasper thinks) lifts her chin a little higher.

She moves a few steps towards the tree, and it takes every ounce of willpower that Jasper has not to go running to her. _I want to go home_, he thinks.

As though she heard him – had he spoken outloud? – she looked up, sniffling and squinting into the darkness. "Where are you?" she wondered aloud, her voice trembling.

_Here_.

She shakes her head. "Your son is dead," she tells herself in a cold voice. "He's long gone."

_I'm here_.

Then, she takes a few more steps towards the tree and, stopping short in her tracks, she drops to her knees and she cries. It's loud to him, louder than it truly is. It's painful and he wants to go to her, grab her by the arms and stand her up again. This isn't his mother; his mother is a strong, opinionated woman who holds the fear of half the men in town.

This woman he sees now is broken to bits and pieces. He tries to comfort her the only way he knows how, with his newfound gift. It is, he thinks, the only time it's truly been put to good use.

She stays on the ground, but her weeping quietens. She wipes her face with the back of her hand and looks skyward. "You take care of my boy," she says to the stars. "I know he's up there."

_I'm far, far from there. _

Another, single sob escapes her and he tries desperately to calm her some more. It doesn't work. Still, he remains there, sending out wave after wave of tranquility and peace and love until it exhausts him.

In the end, she still weeps.

"I love you," she whispers, and it's barely audible to him. "And I'm sorry."

He reaches out to her, physically, as though if he tried hard enough he could actually feel her warmth from his safe place in the tree.

"Don't cry, mama," he says, though she has no hope of ever hearing it. "I'm right here."


	5. Hell

About A Soldier

Part 5/10

_**Hell**_

The visit to his family keeps Jasper distracted, not only for days, but for _years_, and the consquences are all but deadly. As though his decision to go home stirred some kind of hateful, warmongering emotion in everyone, the fighting intensified: on the battlefield and amongst Maria's coven.

Fifteen years of quiet spats and subtle encounters have erupted into full out massacres. And the tide is turning.

This particular battle has kept him on his toes, and he was no fool to the fact that they were outnumbered twelve to one. Still, he isn't going to retreat; he isn't going to let Maria down. He can't afford to.

A young man, one Jasper recognises as a six-month old newborn, scrambles up to him. "We can't keep going like this, Jasper! Forget one-by-one, they're picking us off in _pairs_."

He grabs the newborn by the throat and pulls him within inches of his own face. "You keep going, or I'll dismember you myself," he growls, and then drops the vampire to the ground.

He takes a survey of the battlefield, and he knows the newborn is right. Much more of this, and they might as well just line up to be shot execution-style. A warning slams into his mind and, faster than he can turn to look over his shoulder, he's on the ground.

Digging his hands into the soft earth, he tries to find some leverage to either stand or turn over, but whoever or _whatever_ is on his back is far too strong. It frightens him – he's never been in a situation where anyone else had the upperhand.

The thought of attempting to regain his footing is flung from him, and he cries out as he feels a sudden surge of liquid fire shooting through his shoulder. He reaches back with his hand, and his fingers tangle themselves in a head of hair. He pulls.

He's quite certain a chunk of his arm must have come out when he ripped the other vampire from it, but that pain quickly subsided to yet another, on the back of his neck. Another on his good shoulder, and another at his side.

The sheer strength of six combined newborns is enough to keep him on the ground. He's not certain if he's able to fight from there. He tries and fails several times to turn himself over and it's not until he gives himself over completely to the monster inside him that Maria created is he able to even defend himself from anymore bites.

He feels teeth being ripped from his skin, he hears someone calling his name, and he knows he isn't fighting alone. He doesn't know, though, who is with him and nor does he care. His hands close around a throat and he squeezes.

"Jasper!" A voice chokes. "Jasper, let _go_!"

He recognises the voice, and his grip loosens. "Peter…?"

Another newborn, though stronger than most. When Peter first arrived, Jasper thought he felt a little bit of a friendly connection with him. He taught Peter to fight and, now, he's often by Jasper's side during battle.

"_Damn_, man, I was trying to _save_ you!"

"I'm sorry, I'm – "

"It's alright," Peter says, prying Jasper's fingers from his throat. "We can't stay here. Maria's just going to have to suffer a loss. Call them back, Jasper, or lose every one of them."

Jasper stares at him for a long moment, then surveyed the battlefield once more. He knew he'd get a lashing for this one.

* * *

"You _retreated_?!'

Jasper winced as Maria's shrill voice rang through his mind. "Maria, we –"

"What were you _thinking_?!" she asked, shoving him backwards violently. He let her; the sooner she got the anger out of her system, the better. "And _don't_ try that emotion manipulation with me!"

"I didn't have a choice," he grumbles at her. "We were outnumbered, Maria, _please_ understand that. I came back with less than half of what I went out with!"

"You just didn't _try_ hard enough!"

This angers him as his thoughts shift back to being pinned to the ground and nearly ripped to shreds. "I didn't _try_?" he growls, and takes a step towards her.

She stops yelling and eyes him cautiously. She even goes so far as taking a step backwards, away from him. "Jasper…"

"Six. That's how many of those _animals_ had me pinned to the ground. _Six_."

"I'm sorry, I –"

"And _you_, you sit up here shouting orders and I've seen you out there fighting _one_ time, Maria. _Once_. I nearly died today, _for you_." She looks down her nose at the accusing finger he's pointing at her. "Don't you dare tell me I didn't try hard enough. Don't you _dare_. I've given so much for you, Maria, and quite honestly I don't see what good it's done me."

"Oh, please… don't say that, Jasper. I didn't know… you're right, I don't know how bad it gets and I'm _sorry_."

There's more to say, he thinks, but decides not to go for overkill. He takes a step back from her and closes his eyes. It's too bad that his gift doesn't work on _him_.

"May I?"

Opening his eyes again, he looks down at her. Her hand is hovering at his shoulder, over the place where the first attacker had been. "…Yes."

Pushing the torn fabric away, she bit her bottom lip as she looked at the wound. Then, she inspects the others. "You're lucky."

"Just more scars," he mumbles.

She leads him to her room again, this time with no more intention than to help him. She takes his shirt and orders a towel and a bowl of hot water. He knows that this all isn't necessary – the wound will heal itself in less than twenty-four hours.

But he remembers her tendency to drift back to things a human would do. He suspects she misses caring for people, so he lets her tend to him.

"I am sorry, Jasper," she says as she works. "You're right… we're losing our concentration. I… I fear Nettie and Lucy are growing restless."

He looks at her. "What?"

"They whisper about me and then pretend nothing was said. I worry they may be planning something."

Jasper frowns. He likes Nettie – she's bubbly and energetic, but a bit too naïve for her own good. Lucy, on the other hand, is quite capable of doing what Maria is suggesting.

"Do you want me to keep an eye on them?"

"Will you, please? I try, but sometimes they slip away from me when I'm not looking."

"Yes."

She sets the towel down and turns his head towards her gently. "I know you don't like it, but we need to get rid of the weak ones."

He sighs and stands abruptly.

"Jasper, wait. You know it has to be done."

"I know," he says dryly and heads for the door.

_So this is hell_.


	6. Mutiny

About A Soldier

Part 6/10

_**Mutiny**_

Weeks after suffering the first big loss, Jasper finds that his hunting trips no longer leave him completely satisfied. Tonight he'd had three and still his eyes were dark. He kicks at a lone pebble in the dirt path on the way back to the house; he's not eager to return.

This changes, however, when a shift in the wind brings him the scent of smoke and a sensation of fear and anger and confusion. He looks up, and the sight of flames leaping towards the sky sends him sprinting down the path.

When he arrives, he finds everyone outside in a slight state of panic. Some are arguing with each other, others are simply standing and staring. Their coven base was going up in flames.

"Jasper!"

He turns. "Pete, what happened?!"

"I don't know. Charlotte came runnin' down the stairs like the devil himself was after her and started screaming for everyone to get whoever they could and get out."

He knew it wasn't as silly as it sounded – vampires didn't need to breathe, but if they were trapped and weakened, it could mean death. They can't afford anymore losses right now.

Another voice called his name and he turned. "Nettie?"

"Oh, Jasper… you're here… it's – I don't –"

A sudden wave of panic rises in him, and he isn't certain if it's coming from her or from him.

"…Nettie, where's Maria?"

"She… I-I thought she was right behind me…?"

Jasper stares at her; there's something in her voice he doesn't like. "Nettie, where is she?"

"She's in the house, Jasper," Nettie whispers, her voice trembling. "She's still inside."

She barely finishes her sentence before he's through the front door of the house. Forcing himself to hold his breath, he kneels low and squints against the smoke. "Maria?!"

He flinches, scrambling backwards as the old chandlier above the entrance crashes down. It's followed by a piercing shriek.

"_Maria!_"

He hurries up the stairs and down the hall. The door of her bedroom is shut. "Maria?!"

"Jasper? I'm in here!"

The door cracks off it's hinges in less than a second, and Jasper nearly stumbles over Maria when he enters. She's lying on the floor on her back, her arms and legs sprawled out as though she'd fallen and simply stayed there.

"Maria, what are you doing?"

"I can't… I'm too weak, Jasper. They attacked me, and…"

"_Who_ attacked you?"

"I don't know," she gasps. His eyes travel over her body, locating a series of bite marks that number well over thirty. "I was caught off guard, I never even saw them. You know I like to lie down and rest? That's when it happened."

_I should've been here_, he thinks as he kneels down and scoops her up in his arms. "I'm sorry, Maria."

They're out of the house in a few moments, and by then, Maria's able to stand.

"Maria, he found you!"

Lucy is there, reaching for Maria, embracing her like sisters after a long separation. Jasper keeps his focus on Nettie.

Her eyes were locked on the ground.

* * *

"Hold it, little lady."

Nettie freezes in her tracks. Slowly, she turns to see Jasper leaning against an old oak tree a few yards away from her, his arms folded over his chest. She always found him more intimidating the others, and tonight is no exception. To top it off, he's angry with her.

"Yes…?"

"You knew Maria wasn't with you last night, Nettie. I'm not dumb."

She pats at a mound of dirt with her bare feet, tucking her arms behind her back. "I know you're not dumb, otherwise Maria would've never turned you."

"I am curious, though," he says. "Enlighten me."

Nettie sniffled. Though she was a few years older than Maria in human age, she acted like a young child. She often uses this trait to her advantage, but tonight she's simply afraid. "It was Lucy's idea…"

"To leave Maria?"

"And to set the fire." She watches his eyes narrow, and she looks away.

"Why?"

Nettie looks over her shoulder, back to the camp that's been set up in place of the house. Jasper walks towards her.

"I won't repeat a word of this, Nettie. Not if you tell me the truth."

"…She says we're losing. Lucy, I mean. She says Maria's losing her touch and her mind. If we keep going like this, we'll all be dead sooner or later. Lucy promised that if I helped her, she'd protect me. I don't like it when Lucy's angry; she scares me more than Maria does. I only want to do what's going to keep me alive, I don't want to die. I knew if I refused to help Lucy and she succeeded, she'd probably kill me, too."

Silence.

"I'm sorry, Jasper. Normally I wouldn't side with Lucy, but I think she's right this time. Maria's costing us all more than we should be giving up. She's greedy, don't pretend you haven't noticed. I know you care for her, but think about this: she'll use you until she can't use you anymore. And then, what good are you to her?"

Jasper watches as Nettie stands there for a moment, letting what she said sink in. And then, she retreats back to camp. He stays where he is for the remainder of the night, thinking.

He does care for Maria, that's no secret to anyone including himself. Still… Nettie's words had truth. How long will it be before Maria grows tired of him, too?


	7. Tired

About A Soldier

Part 7/10

_**Tired**_

He's always heard it said that good things come to those who wait.

He's beginning to think it's a lie. For over half a century he's waited for things to change, waited for Maria to tire of war and look at him as something more than a tool. For a while, he thought she was beginning to return the fond feelings he felt for her, but now he knows better.

"You're angry," she says one day when he's resting leisurely on the branch of an oak.

"No."

"Lonely?"

"No."

She sighs. "Will you not talk to me?"

"I have nothing to say, Maria."

"But you do," she insists. "You avoid me now, and you barely look at me. Ever since Nettie and Lucy – "

Silence.

Just months after the fire at the house, the truth had came to light. He regrets the fact they're no longer with them, but not as much as he regrets the fact that they died by his own hand. They had attacked Maria… the biggest mistake they'd ever made.

"You miss them?"

"A little."

"I'll leave you alone."

Silence.

That's all there is these days; silence, silence and more silence. Boredom. Occassionally, a small group of trespassers would instigate a territorial fued but now they've fled back as far as Mexico. Maria's days of war were over.

"The newborns at their year mark need to go," she says professionally. "And Peter."

This catches his attention, and he snaps his eyes open. "Why?"

"His strength is waning, and he's beginning to get ideas like the ones Lucy had."

"He's no threat to you, Maria."

"Do I need to add your name to the list, Jasper?"

A low rumble vibrated in his chest. "Fine."

"I'm sorry we've come to this." Her voice is quieter, softer, though Jasper feels no regret from her at all. He doesn't respond when she reaches up to touch his hand. "I fear I'm losing you, _mi amor_."

He curls his fingers around hers for a single, fleeting moment before dropping from the tree. "If you are, it's because you're pushing me away."

* * *

Jasper eyes the burning pile wearily. It's been stacked up and burned down twenty-four times, and still they were not halfway through. He watches the flames dance and twist agains the night, and he is briefly reminded of the pain of his transformation into this life. The pain of death.

"Jasper?"

He blinks, tearing his gaze away from the fire. "Sorry, Pete."

"I can finish up here if you want."

Jasper thinks of his instructions from Maria. "No, Peter, it's fine… we should just keep going." Crossing a name off the list, Jasper sighs aloud and reads the next name. Turning, he calls, "Charlotte, are you here?"

A surge of pain rips through him, and he drops the list on the ground, his hand going immediately to rest in the space just beneath his chest.

"No," Peter hissed.

Jasper looks up, too caught off guard and shocked by the sudden shift in emotion to speak.

"You won't _touch_ her."

A soft female voice comes from near the burning pile. "I'm here."

"Charlotte, _run_!"

"Wh—"

By the time Jasper makes it to his feet, Peter has Charlotte by the arm and they're halfway to the forest on the other side of the field. He has half a mind to go after them; he can catch them if he tries.

_Why_? he asks himself. _Because they're in love?_

Love. That's what he'd felt; that the unknown, powerful emotion that hit him so hard when Charlotte's name had been called. Peter loved her. He simply stands there, watching them disappear through the trees, his hand on his chest. _Go_, he thinks. _Get out of here_.

A stronger person might have gone with them, he thinks.

A stronger person.

Instead, he kneels, and picks up the list of newborns to be destroyed. He crosses Charlotte off the list, and then, he calls the next name.

The sun is beginning to rise with the last pile of remains is set aflame, and when he returns to the small house Maria found for the coven – the remaining seven – she's waiting for him.

"How did it go?"

"Fine."

"And Peter?"

He chooses his words carefully. "He's gone."

"Come sit with me, Jasper."

He doesn't want to, but he does. He tenses as she leans her head over on his shoulder, and does so even more when she reaches up to trace a specific scar on his next near the groove of his shoulder.

Her's.

"I never forget where this is," she says quietly, "no matter how many new ones you get."

Neither does he.

"You won't leave me, will you, Jasper?"

He closes his eyes. "I don't make promises I can't keep, Maria."

"I know." She lowers her head and sniffles. "Will you stay with me tonight, the way we used to? Just lay with me? …_Por favor_?"

Jasper sighs. "Why?"

"I miss you."

He folds his arms across his chest. "Am I supposed to believe you, Maria?"

She looks truly startled, and h feels more than just disapppointment from her. She's hurt. "I _do_, Jasper. You were always more than just a soldier to me, you do know that, _si_? I care about you… I know that I don't show it all the time, but it's here. Look at me."

He does.

Her hand is over her chest. "It's not beating anymore, but it's still there. _Mi corazon_."

For the first time, he felt a true unguarded emotion from Maria. For the first time, she wasn't keeping herself from him. She was afraid and she was lonely.

"I'll stay, Maria."

Once more, they lie in silence, her head on his shoulder and his gaze straight ahead at the ceiling. He doesn't make promises he can't keep. He doesn't know how many more times he'll give in before he breaks.


	8. Goodbye

About A Soldier

Part 8/10

_**Goodbye**_

Five years after the unstable reconciliation with Maria, and Jasper feels more torment now than ever. He feels more trapped than his first few months as a newborn in the cage.

Again, the night's hunt was not satisfying for him. He was up to four a night, and now something new was torturing him: the pain of his victims. It's what drove him… he suspects he thirsts not only for their blood but now for their pain.

It's driving him crazy.

A breeze passes through while he's still a long way from the house, and he thinks he hears his name on it. He halts and turns his face to the wind, inhaling. He recognises the scent.

"Jasper, it's me. It's Pete."

"Peter, what are you doing back here? Maria thinks your dead if she –"

"I came back for you. Me and Charlotte, we were worried about you."

He feels a tug of appreciation, and that familiar trusting sensation he always got from Peter. Still…

"You shouldn't be here, Pete. Leave."

"Come with us?"

"I'm secure here, Pete. Maria's losing her lust for war, she just wants to live now."

"And you? Are you living, Jasper, or are you merely surviving?"

The question hits him. He knows the answer. "I can't leave her, she won't know what to do with herself."

"Jasper, listen to me. The fighting… it's not all there is. Maria will _never_ stop. Maybe for a few years, but it's all she knows. I've seen other ways. I've seen our kind living together without fighting."

Jasper stares at him. Had he gone and finally lost his mind? "What are you talking about?"

"Up North, they don't fight there. Please, come with us, Jasper. You've learned all you can from Maria, and she's taken all she can from you without killing you. _Please_."

Silence.

"We'll be here until midnight, by the old burn pile. I'll wait for you, Jasper, until then. And then, we're gone for good. Please… don't miss this opprotunity. You're better than this."

Peter's gone, and Jasper's left with his words. _Without fighting_. _Don't miss this opprotunity_.

He inhales deeply, savoring the feel of oxygen burning in his lungs. He knows the choice isn't a hard one. The decision to make the choice is what's waiting…

* * *

He finds his coat draped over an armchair near the door. The medals from his time in the military – back when he was human – are in a desk drawer. He looks at each one carefully as he tucks them in his pockets. They are the only thing left of his humanity.

After collectioning his personal items, he thinks he's ready.

He's wrong.

A tiny silver necklace sitting on top of the desk catches his eye. Maria's. He sighs and stares at it. Can he survive without her? _Sure_, he tells himself.

Does he _want_ to?

He knows the answer. He wants out.

Carefully, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny gold button that came loose from his uniform a few weeks back. He places it in the center of the necklace, rearranging it until he thinks it looks alright.

Then, he makes his way silently up the stairs. Maria was in her room, pretending to be resting again. He pauses outside the door and listens. He can hear her breathing – trying to be as human as she can be.

_She's so far from human it's unreal_. He was well on his way down the same path.

Carefully, he places his hand flat on her bedroom door. "I'm sorry, Maria. It's just a promise that I can't keep." Then, he takes a long, deep breath.

"Goodbye," he says. Then, he smiles slightly to himself and adds something he knew Maria would say to him: "_Mi amor_."


	9. Insanity

About A Soldier

Part 9/10

_**Insanity**_

Jasper's decision to leave Maria, Peter thinks, is one of the best ones he's ever made. He noticed a change in his friend almost immediately, though he still confessed to missing certain things about their maker.

Three years into their life together, though – him, and Jasper and Charlotte – Jasper began to change again. He's reclusive now, and spends most of his time with his knees at his chest, his arms around his legs and his face hidden from view.

Tonight – a cold Saturday near the end of September – they're in Michigan, and Charlotte is waiting when Peter returns from a hunt.

"I think you should talk to him, Pete."

He frowns. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know. I just know he's… he's gone _mad _or something, Pete. I think maybe we shouldn't have taken him from Maria."

"Don't say that. You know better… living off her wasn't healthy for him."

Charlotte grabs his hand and marches him to the back of the abandoned shack they've found, pushes open the door to a small room and points with a long, slender arm. "And is _this_ healthy?"

Jasper is sitting in a darkened corner of the room, his eyes watching the patch of sun on the ground near his foot, as though he were afraid it might attack him at any moment. His face was blank, his eyes so dark that they were barely visible in the darkness, even to his two fellow vampires.

"He needs to hunt, Peter. He hasn't been out in _weeks_."

Peter makes his way over. "Jasper? Get up, kid. You gotta hunt before you wither away."

With a grunt, Peter lifts him off the ground. "No," he says. "I can't."

"You can't what? Hunt?"

"It hurts."

Peter sighs. "You've gotta get past this, Jasper. I understand it's hard for you… can't you tune it out or something?"

"It _hurts_."

Charlotte shook her head and grasped Jasper's other arm, helping Peter lead him to the door. "Get out there, Jasper. You can't live like this, and neither can we. You've got to pull your weight. We're due to move to another town in the next few days and if you can't walk, you can't go."

"Charlotte," Peter warns. "There's no sense in threatening him."

"Who says I'm threatening? Now, go."

They give him a gentle push out the door, and he tumbles ungracefully through the woods away from the house.

The streets of the nearby town were empty, and Jasper didn't feel like legging it to the next one. He lowers himself down onto a small bench near the side of the main street, he covers his head with his coat and closes his eyes.

If only he could _sleep_ for a little while.

"Excuse me, sir. You can't stay there."

A low, irritated rumble rises in his chest. "I'm not staying, just resting."

"Well you can't _rest_ here, either."

Jasper lowers his coat and pulls himself to a sitting position, rolling his eyes up to glare at the officer. "I'm just _tired_, officer."

"Find a bed to sleep in, then. Or a box. It doesn't matter to me, but you can't sleep _there_."

Standing abruptly, Jasper pushes by the officer and mumbles something his mother would've slapped him for.

"What was that?"

"You heard me."

"You get back here this instant."

Jasper closes his eyes and practices the slow breathing he used to do as a human when he was angry. It wasn't working. "Why don't you get off your high horse and stop pushing people around?"

"It's my business," the officer says, "if people are _littering_ the sidewalk. You're doing that, and I—"

Jasper's turned around and inches from the officer's face before the man can finish his sentence. "And you _what_?"

"Now, let's not cause a scene," the officer says. For every step backwards he takes, Jasper takes one forwards. "I'm not being discriminatory or anything, only enforcing the law."

His lip curling back over his teeth, Jasper glares down at the man, making no effort to quieten the irritated growl in the back of his throat. They're in the middle of the street now, and the man is reaching for his pistol.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The officer, thinking he's being quick, reaches for the weapon with the opposite hand that Jasper's been watching.

In the time in took the man to make the decision, the gun is rattling to the ground, and the officer's back is pressed into the cold, wet bricks of the side of a building.

"What the hell are you?!"

Jasper thinks that that is a _very_ good question. One he no longer has an answer for.

The emotions that race through him are like none he's felt in a long time – _years_.

Since his war days with Maria.

He latches onto the man's neck and, even after he knows he's had his fill, even after he feels the bones of his shoulders cracking beneath his grip, he doesn't let go.

There's practically nothing left of the man when he _does_, and the sight before him when he comes to his sense is enough to send him scrambling backwards. Had he done this; had _he _multilated this person to such an extent?

Jasper looks at the name tag on the officer's uniform.

"I'm sorry, Toby," he says, reaching down with a trembling hand to close the man's wide, blue eyes.

His eyes had been blue, he thinks. A long time ago, before he was a monster.


	10. Time

About A Soldier

10/10

_**Time**_

"Will you go to Maria?"

Jasper winces at the name. He's sitting in the small shack with Peter and Charlotte, two days after the incident with the officer.

He's told them he wants to leave.

"I can't go back to her," he says honestly. "I can't… I don't know if it's because I'm afraid she'll kill me, or if I couldn't stand knowing that I betrayed her. It was harder to leave than you might think."

"I know you loved her," Charlotte said quietly. "Everyone knew. And she did care for you, Jasper."

He shifts uncomfortably, wishing Charlotte would keep her pity to herself. "Thanks, Charlotte… but I can't go back."

"I think that's a good idea," Peter says. "Where will you go, then?"

"I don't know," he replies. "I may head south again, towards Florida. I can't go back to Texas."

"It's nice down there. Really sunny, though… be careful."

He smiles slightly as Charlotte reaches out and takes his hand. "We'll miss you, Jasper."

"Nah," he says. "You'll be so busy lovin' on each other you won't even have time to think about me."

If Charlotte could've blushed, Jasper thinks she would have. "Not true."

"You take care of her, Pete."

Peter frowns. "Will you…look for someone? A companion?"

"I think I'll fly solo for a while. A _long_ while. I seem to feel better when I'm on my own."

"Oh," Charlotte's expression falls slightly. "I hate to think of you out there on your own, Jasper. Who knows, maybe you'll get swept off your feet."

Jasper laughs. "I doubt it. My feet are standing firmly on the ground, I promise you that."

"We'll see," she says in a sing-song voice.

"Evening will be here soon. I'll go then."

"So soon?" Peter asks, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I thought you'd stay at least until tomorrow."

"I'm afraid that if I stay, I'll change my mind."

Peter nods. "I understand."

He and Charlotte stand with Jasper, and Charlotte steps forward first, wrapping her arms around Jasper's neck. "Take care of yourself… I wanna see you again one day."

Jasper returns the hug, lifting her off the ground slightly. "Don't worry about me, worry about _him_. He wouldn't know what to do with himself without you."

Peter stands there, his hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets. "Well… you know, good luck, and all that…"

"Yeah."

There's a brief moment of silence before Jasper feels himself dangerously close to being crushed between two arms. This time _his_ feet are off the ground.

"Thank you, Jasper," Peter says into his shoulder. "If you hadn't let us go, I don't think any one of us would be here."

Jasper squirms. "That's… _really_ sweet, Peter, but… put me down, will you?"

"Sorry."

With his feet back on firm earth, Jasper sighs and glares at Peter. Then, his expression turns into a soft, fond gaze. He reaches out and claps him on the shoulder. "Thanks, Pete. For everything. Maybe I'll see you around in a few hundred years."

* * *

The first steps Jasper takes away from the shack, he feels, are his first steps to a new life. A life without Maria, without hate and, maybe, without pain. He'll live each day as it comes, taking what he learned from everyone – yes, even Maria – and using it to the best of his ability.

He'll live, as Peter said before, not just survive. And maybe, as Charlotte said, he'll find as place where he belongs. Even if it takes another whole lifetime to seek it out. He's got all the time in the world.

Time, he knows, is on his side.

Where he'll go, he doesn't know and he doesn't know what awaits him when he gets there. He chooses a direction based on the wind, and promises himself that he won't look back.

_That_ is a promise that he _can_ keep.


End file.
